The Bump and Grind
by silentlullabye
Summary: REPOST! Tony likes to party. Gibbs does not. At least, not in the way Tony expects... Slash. Rated M for a reason. Both bad and good dancing herein.


The Bump and Grind

An NCIS Fanfic.

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><p>Tony liked to party. Not in a drink-until-you-pass-out-and-your-frat-brothers-draw-a-penis-on-your-face kind of partying but an I'm-an-adult-and-I-can-go-to-a-club-and-dance-with-whoever-the-hell-I-want-and-no-one-can-say-anything kind of partying. He enjoyed his liquor within reason and always played it safe with his sexual partners. He loved to dance and was quite good at it, if he didn't say so himself. When he was on the dance floor years melted away and it didn't matter that to some Tony should be acting more responsible and grown up and should not be out partying like he was a twenty-year-old. All that mattered was that thirty-nine-and-eleven-twelfths-year-old Tony could lose himself in the music and move with the mass of bodies around him.<p>

Gibbs did not like to party. Even when he was young he had never gone out and partied with his peers or others in the Corps. It was different then. He had Shannon and had skipped out on the sowing of wild oats. He didn't miss it. He had always felt he was an old soul in a young person's body and that aging had actually caught the two up. He enjoyed his liquor within reason and spent his Friday and Saturday nights doing what he enjoyed: staying in, eating steak, working on the boat, and watching the game.

Naturally, when Tony and Gibbs got together, this became a problem.

"I would only be one time and I promise I will never ask you again. I swear. Never. Ever. Again."

Gibbs smirked up at Tony who was standing at the bottom of the basement stairs wearing his Friday night hot pants (jeans; they were only jeans, promise). "No."

Tony frowned. "Not even once? How do you know you wouldn't have fun if you've never tried it?"

"Tony, I am having fun." He sanded down one of the ribs on the boat to emphasize his point. "_This_ is what I do for fun, not a night out shaking my ass at everyone in the 'club'."

Tony's frown deepened into a pout and his hands went to his hips. "I do not shake my ass at everybo- No, you know what? Don't go. That's fine. I wanted to show you what I like to do on a Friday night, to share a piece of myself with you, but if you don't wanna go, fine. I'll go by myself and have a good time dancing with all the other hot people in _the 'club'_."

Gibbs chuckled and didn't look up from his sander. "Trying to make me jealous won't make me go, Tony." He heard, rather than saw, Tony's muttered curse. "Tony if you're gonna go and sleep with someone else there is absolutely nothing I could do about it. Beforehand. Because you know afterwards we would be having words. But I know you better than that, Tony. You might be a bit of a player but you've never actually cheated on anyone. It isn't in you."

Tony huffed. "I'll have you know that I-"

"Tony."

"Fine. Whatever, I'll see you later." And he was gone up the stairs and out of the house.

Gibbs knew that Tony bounced from lover to lover like it was going out of style. It was one of the reasons Gibbs was so good for him. Gibbs kept him grounded and accepted that Tony sometimes needed space and room to breathe by himself. In return Tony gave him a sense of belonging and warmth. Tony kept him from retreating into himself too much and always had a joke to brighten his mood. They were good together.

But Gibbs couldn't understand Tony's obsession with going out and dancing. He was one of the people who believed that people who were almost forty should not be going out and partying like they were twenty.

But then Abby pointed out an interesting fact. (Okay so what really happened was she locked him in her lab and forced him to converse with her, but still.) It wasn't about the inappropriateness of Tony's weekend plans or the age limits on having a night life. It was simply Tony wanting to share his weekend plans with Gibbs because he loved him. It was only about the time and the gesture, not really the dancing and drinking and excessive sweating associated with the two.

So the next Friday night, shortly after Tony had departed _without_ asking Gibbs to come, Gibbs had slipped into a pair of jeans and a casual shirt, the closest thing he owned to club wear. He went to the club that Tony mentioned most and ignored the look the doorman gave him as he was waved in (after waiting twenty minutes).

Gibbs spotted Tony on the dance floor – shaking his ass – surrounded by people. Really hot people. Really hot people who had _their_ hands all over _his_ chest. Really hot people who were pressed up against Tony's back, grinding.

Admittedly Tony wasn't paying attention to any one person but the fact that so many seemed to be attracted to what Gibbs considered to be his made him uneasy. The jealousy he had claimed to ignore molded into a ball in the pit of his stomach.

He lurched out onto the floor, dodging swaying bodies and flying hands, until he was next to Tony. Gibbs gave the man pressed to Tony's back a look of pure menace that would make stronger men quiver in their designer shoes. The man backed away quickly and found a dance partner far away. Before Tony could even respond to Gibbs' presence he was enveloped in arms and a ferocious kiss was being placed on his lips. He had never seen Gibbs like this, possessive and demanding. It was hot and he liked it immensely.

When Gibbs stepped behind him (still not completely understanding the point of why two people would dance back to front instead of face to face) Tony molded his body to fit the curvature of Gibbs'. His ass nestled into Gibbs' pelvis and strong arms pressed his back into a firm chest.

It was an odd sight; a youngish man in the arms of a salt-and-pepper-haired older gentleman doing their impression of dirty dancing in the middle of a crowded club. But they didn't care.

Tony could feel the hard outline of Gibbs' dick digging into the crevice between his ass cheeks. There was a delicious friction as they rubbed together and Tony felt his own erection straining against his jeans' front.

It couldn't last.

Twenty minutes later they were at home in bed, Gibbs buried deep within Tony's tight hole, Tony' legs wrapped around a sculpted waist as Gibbs drove into him. Tony ached for more touch, more feeling and his hands caressed every square inch of tanned skin he could reach. Muscles flexed underneath the skin tickling his fingers. Gibbs plundered his mouth and Tony relaxed into the many sensations that echoed through him. When Tony finally came it was with a whisper of Gibbs' name. Gibbs thrust once more and emptied himself into his willing lover. Sated he pulled out and collapsed next to Tony.

It was minutes before they could speak.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming out with me."

Gibbs smiled. "It was fun."

Tony shifted into Gibbs' embrace and turned his head to face him. "But?..."

Gibbs brushed sweat beads from Tony's forehead as he answered. "But if we're going to go dancing together again then it will be on my terms."

"Fair enough."

**.**

The opportunity came the following weekend, during which Tony was shown a glimpse of Gibbs' world. There was dinner at a fine restaurant, which was lovely. But then there was the dancing.

When Gibbs danced, he danced. Not a bump and grind on a sticky dance floor in a smoky club filled with throbbing bass and flashing lights but instead a wooden ballroom dance floor upon which Tony was treated to a startling surprise.

Gibbs knew how to waltz. And he showed Tony exactly how it was done. Tony's lessons as a child went completely down the drain as he realized he was following Gibbs' lead and stepping into the typical woman's role of the dance. Strangely, he was okay with that.

No one gave them a second look where they were. Couples danced similarly around, never questioning the two gentlemen twirling gently across the hardwood. It was marvelous and Tony understood now why Gibbs would never truly fit in to one of the clubs Tony frequented. Gibbs belonged in this world of high society that wasn't actually so pretentious. He belonged on hardwood floors with a worthy partner.

Tony was simply happy that he was the partner Gibbs had chosen and that Gibbs had voluntarily allowed Tony a peek at his life that he had never seen before.

Gibbs turned him with one final flourish and then dipped Tony down in one fell swoop, stealing a kiss before swinging him back upright. The song ended and the pair left the floor, Tony's feet tingling in his shoes.

It was so completely different from what he was used to that Tony felt slightly overwhelmed and out of his element (despite the fact that he had been born and raised in "high-society" places like this one). Gibbs took one look at the mix of awe and befuddlement on Tony's face and whisked them away.

Fifty minutes later they lay panting together on their bed, wrapped in tangled limbs.

Clearly it didn't matter how they got there, as long as they ended up this way together.

But Tony wouldn't mind another spin around the ballroom again sometime.

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><p>AN: Been mulling over this for a while and decided to post. Let me know if you liked!

Also, a small note, I know that both Tony and Michael Weatherly are in their forties but I decided to switch up Tony's age in this fic. Here I picture Gibbs at roughly fifty or fifty-one (much younger than Gibbs on the show and Mark Harmon). Writer's prerogative, I guess.

A/N 2: Troubles abound! I had to repost this fic because apparently the site wasn't saying it existed! How dare they? But anyways here is the repost and I really hope this fixes the problem because if it doesn't I'm not sure what else to try other than emailing the site support (which I've already done.) Leave me a review, please (if you can) and let me know if everything is in good working order. Thank you!

sl

**Disclaimer: NCIS is the property of Donald P. Bellisario and Don McGill.**


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